


you showed me something i can’t live without

by amazingsantiago



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, B99 Summer 2019 Fic Exchange, F/M, b99fandomevents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 02:57:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19190536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingsantiago/pseuds/amazingsantiago
Summary: Alternative ending to Casecation. Jake is left reeling after Amy's "start over" comment. Title from 'I Believe' by the Jonas Brothers.





	you showed me something i can’t live without

**Author's Note:**

> For valeriee as a part of the B99 Summer 2019 Fic Exchange, hope you enjoy 💖

He can’t even look at her. Once the bomb has been diffused and Pam is in handcuffs and Bruno Rojas has an increased security detail, Jake and Amy are free to go home. The car ride is awkward AF, tension thick in the air like a pea soup has descended on the city. She doesn’t rest her hand on his thigh as he drives, they don’t sing to Taylor Swift, they don’t stop at their favourite Thai take-out as they drive past. They don’t say a word until they’re inside their apartment and even then Jake mutters that he’s getting a shower under his breath, leaving her to it. 

 

He undresses slowly, numbly, and stands still beneath the shower, the hot water burning his skin. His face is wet with tears, his mind cruelly replaying Amy’s words. Start over. _Start over start over start over_. With someone else. Who is not him. 

 

He stands in the shower until the water runs cold, wrapping the monogrammed ‘Mr’ towel (a gift from  Terry and Sharon from their wedding registry) around his waist. Everything is a horrible reminder of them, their soon-to-be-over marriage, as he returns to their bedroom, to the framed wedding pictures on his bedside table, the ‘Mr’ mug of coffee waiting for him. 

 

She’s already in bed, sipping the herbal tea in her ‘Mrs’ mug, her face pale and drawn in, dark bags beneath her eyes. He immediately - guiltily - looks away, grabbing his t-shirt and sweatpants, mumbling something about changing in the other room. 

 

He ends up on the couch re-watching _Die Hard_. If his marriage is over, at least he still has his favourite movie franchise. Correction: _n_ _ ow _ his marriage is over. 

 

It’s a sharp, painful reminder, a nightmare end to what was supposed to be a romantic anniversary celebration. How far they have deviated from his plan. They were supposed to be tearing each other’s clothes off by now and instead they can’t even bare to be in the same room. 

 

His phone buzzes with a text from Rosa, informing him of how worried Amy had been when he was stuck inside with an explosive device, how much Amy loved him and that obviously she didn’t want to start over with anyone else.  **You two are soulmates, you dumb-dumb.**

 

He closes his eyes and shoves his phone down the side of the cushion. It doesn’t matter what Rosa thinks. Amy said what she said. If he doesn’t want kids, she’ll divorce him. 

 

The terrifying thing is, he doesn’t want kids. Or he didn’t. He doesn’t know how to feel anymore, his arguments against having a baby all pooh-poohed by the debate squad, his thoughts muddled by the need to do anything necessary to keep Amy. She is the _best_ thing that’s ever happened to him. He can’t lose her. 

 

He hears shuffling footsteps make their way into the living room, his wife, wrapped in their comforter, appearing in view a few moments later. He can tell she’s been crying too and hates himself for putting her through that. But also hates her a little. Because she’s the one who uttered the words _start over_. This whole thing is her fault. Or Pam’s. He doesn’t even remember how this whole thing started anymore. 

 

“Hey. Can we talk?”

 

“I think we’ve done enough talking for today, don’t you think?” He snaps, hating the way she visibly recoils. 

 

“We can’t leave things like this.” She gestures between them. Things haven’t been so awkward since Florida. “My parents always said never go to bed angry.”

 

“Well my parents solved all their marital problems with divorce. So.”

 

He did it. He said the ‘d’ word. It's out there. Can’t take it back now. 

 

“You want a divorce?” She whispers, her face crumpling. 

 

He shrugs noncommittally. “You’re the one who mentioned starting over.” 

 

“I said I _didn’t_ want to. I love you, Jake. I planned to spend the rest of my life with you. But I’ve always wanted kids... and if we can’t do that together...” She breaks off, pointlessly scrubbing away her tears with the back of her hand. New ones fall anyway. “This hurts me too, you know.”

 

“Does it?” He asks emptily. “If it was such a dealbreaker, you should’ve made that clear before we got married. Hell, you should’ve made it clear years ago before I got so invested.”

 

“I didn’t think I needed to. I thought you loved kids!”

 

“I do. But that doesn’t mean I want my own. I love Nikolaj and Ava and Iggy, but I also love giving them back to their parents at the end of the day and being able to get on with my life.”

 

“And that’s your opinion set for life, is it? You’re never changing your mind?”

 

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. 

 

“You don’t know?” Amy repeats. “Our marriage is about to fall apart and _you don’t know_. Thanks, Jake. That’s great.” She shakes her head, walking away. 

 

“I don’t know anymore because I don’t want to lose you,” he spits out. It comes out angrier than it’s supposed to, but it does the trick. She turns around. “I didn’t want kids because I was scared. I had a crappy childhood and we work a lot and I’m terrified of being a bad father.”

 

Her expression is unreadable. 

 

“I love you so much,” he continues. “This life we have here... it’s better than anything I imagined. Like I said earlier, I was as sure about asking you to marry me as I was about becoming a cop. But I was still scared of marriage. Scared of ending up like my parents, alone for so many years. It wasn’t until you were walking down the shredded paper aisle that I wasn’t anymore.”

 

“What are you saying?” She murmurs. 

 

“I’m always going to be scared of ending up like my dad. Just because things are scary, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do them.”

 

“Can I sit down?” 

 

He nods silently, shifting so there’s room for her. She grabs his hand, lightly rubbing the pad of his thumb over his wedding band. He swallows the lump in his throat. 

 

“I don’t want you to say these things just because you think it will save our marriage,” she says seriously. “I want you to _want_ kids. We’re only going to end up in the same place a few years down the line if you commit to having children you don’t want. And that’s not fair on me, or you, or them.”

 

He thinks about it - really thinks about it. He thinks about the way his heart flips whenever Nikolaj says he loves him or when one of Amy’s nieces climbs into his lap and asks him to read a book or when Cagney and Lacey bring him cookies into work. They’re always oddly shaped and contain more chocolate chips than any other ingredient, but their little smiles light up whenever he pops one in his mouth and tells them it’s delicious. And as scared as he is, he loves the image of a mini-Amy he conjures in his mind. 

 

“I do want to have kids,” he promises. “With you.”

 

Her lips twitch. “You’re sure? You’re not scared anymore?”

 

“I am so scared. Maybe even more now so than before,” he confesses. “But I was scared in there with Pam and I handled that. And me and you make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

 

“The best team,” she agrees, smiling for the first time in hours. 

 

It’s so beautiful - she’s so beautiful - that Jake can’t help but smile back. “We can do anything.”

 

“We can.” 

 

“So,” he hesitates, looking nervous again, “are we good?”

 

“We’re good,” she says, leaning in for a kiss. It’s soft and tender yet equal parts desperate. She giggles when she pulls away. “It’s you and I, by the way.”

 

All the heart ache disappears with a _whoosh_. 

 

“We’ve just decided to have kids together and you’re seriously correcting my grammar?” He narrows his eyes playfully. 

 

“Of course! I won’t have you impose poor grammatical habits onto our unborn child.”

 

“I love you,” he responds. 

 

“Love you too, babe.” She combs her fingers through his damp, messy curls, biting her lip. “Want to practise baby-making in the other room?”

 

Jake grins. “Race you there.”


End file.
